In the Cell
by Goddess247
Summary: His pain, his thoughts, his life as a mercenary, his cancer, his inability to be normal...all this started to fade away when Wade realized that she was holding his hand...
1. Prologue

Prologue

He was watching her.

Her graceful moves, her lack of wanting to accept the awfulness of the situation they were in, the glint of something he himself could not afford, shining in her eyes…hope.

Wade sat quietly with his back to the wall, head pressed to the cold stone, he didn't dare to move too much…the pain was too much to handle even for him.

When did it happen? Hmmm…he didn't remember anymore. Damn cancer…so much for a remission. This time his own healing factor wasn't enough. He needed the one with much higher rate..like Wolverine's. .

"You alright?" _Crap. _Her voice was melodic for his ears. It would be sooo much easier if she would be talking like one of these computer mailboxes..

She stood up from the place in the corner of her cell and came closer to the bars that were connecting their cells. Her bright eyes concerned. _For him?..Was she concerned for him?_

"Hey…"

"Don't worry 'bout me, sweetcheeks." He managed finally. "No need to.."

She just nodded, accepting this as his answer. At the look on her face he could guess that she wasn't happy about it but wasn't about to argue.

_Smart girl. _He smirked to himself. _Definitely a diamond in a pile of stones._

How right he was..a pure diamond.

He watched as she slide to the floor, her delicate arm still holding the bars. For a split second he considered to reach for it but decided against it. He shouldn't touch her. Plus it wouldn't be very pretty if he starts coughing and spitting blood right in front of her. And he knew almost for a fact that it would happen. With his luck he could probably even vomit on her. _And again – damn cancer._

He turned his head. Even this action came with such consequences as quick drumming pains in his spine and an unpleasant taste in his mouth. But a second later there was something else..the shiver ran through his body as a reaction to the unfamiliar feeling. With almost inaudible 'uh..' muttered mostly to himself Wade rested his eyes on a small hand that was now holding his larger one. She didn't say anything, he didn't prompt her to, she didn't look over at him when his own fingers closed over hers, accepting the tiny amount of comfort she was offering. But right now at this moment of pain paralyzing him and thoughts of death floating freely through his mind he wouldn't trait it for the world.

And although it was oddly easy for him to sit in the cell holding hands with the beautiful blonde prisoner Wade couldn't help but wonder if she would still be so kind to him knowing that he was the one dragging her to the facility not so long ago…

_Or I could just act like Scarlett for once…and think about it tomorrow._ With that thought in mind he clenched his hand around her fingers even tighter if that was possible.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

She knew who he was.

She remembered the color of his eyes, the twin swards on his back, his grip on her shoulders as he rushed her down the stairs from her apartment along with his 'co-workers'…teammates…

Then when she opened her eyes one day, at least she thought it was a day since there were no windows in the prison the mutants were held in, expecting it to be just like any other, she found herself looking at the new neighbor. Oh no, the cell on her left was still occupied by Toad…not that she would exactly miss him if he decided to make his escape ar exit for that matter. But in the cell on her right, which was vacant a day before, there lay a body. A male. As far as she could tell he was tall with slightly-tanned skin, not natural but as a result of sun baths, muscles visible through the white wife-bitter and dark-red pants – the uniform of the prisoners.

When she woke up again he was awake as well, standing near the bars, eyes dull, hands slightly shaking. Then he suddenly turned around, catching her starring. The blush started crapping from the base of her ears, being caught in the middle of the crime, but she willed it to stop. She was a prisoner, _thanks to him_, not some silly school girl. But she had to give it to him…he definitely was worth blushing over…

He was tall, had at least two heads on her, with dark hazel eyes, broad shoulders, vast chest and strong arms. Oh…she remembered those arms all too good, she was brought in here by those arms.

She turned her head then, breaking there staring contest. Being angry more at herself for acting so emotional then at him.

As days passed Emma realized that she wasn't exactly mad at him. He was a soldier, that she was sure of, he had an order…

A couple days later she caught herself starting to get worried – he looked pale, didn't move much and she could tell by the way his muscles moved that he was in pain. No sounds escaped his lips but she was sure that was one hell of a pain.

"You alright?" She still blamed herself for verbalizing her worries.

He told her not to worry about him. But he was still positioned on the floor with his back to the walljust like he has been for the last four hours.

Then…a pure instinct.

She reached for his hand and took a firm hold on it.

He made an effort to turn and look at her…not her but their hands. Then his long fingers encircled around her delicate small ones and she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

He was a terrorist, a mutant, a prisoner…but he's a man and in pain so she wasn't about to annoy herself for wanting to provide him with a small amount of comfort she could.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He took her in.

She was skinny, not that he minded, but still she was too tiny for her own good. Her light hair was combed in a tight bun in the back of her head. She was dressed in baggy red uniform-pants and slim white tank-top that wrapped her like a second skin. The uniform left him a lot of room for imagination, the upper part of her outfit definitely didn't.

But what mesmerized him the most about her body was her neck. Every time she turned her head or massaged the aching muscles on her back or even looked at the ceiling deep in thought – it was the most graceful thing he has ever seen in his life and he, a skilled materiel artist, has seen a lot.

_Maybe I just have a thing for necks…_

She let out a breath, her sensual lips parting as she did so.

…_and lips._

Her long eyelashes moved to their own rhythm as she moved them rapidly, trying to blink something away.

…_or eyes._

Then there was a moment when the physical pain he was experiencing doubled with a strong wave of a mantel one. Was he actually attracted to the girl? _No._ Couldn't be. Lust, yes. That he could understand. A perfect need of every human body, a male one more then female. It's comfortable, more or less controlled, natural. The thing was..it wasn't exactly lust he was experiencing. Given fact, he wanted her, her body…now not that much as he was sure he would without the illness all over his head but much enough. But the things he wanted to do with her were not characterized by the male-driven animal craving but most likely by a shot of adrenaline, a rush of actual real emotions, the heat on the side of the chest.

_You gotta be kidding!.._

Wade Winston Wilson was so accustomed to being a total void of any feelings other than those he got while killing people that at first he couldn't quiet place 'attraction' anywhere on his list. And he wasn't sure he would be able in the near future…if he had that future…

_OH! There she goes again with her neck!.._


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Wade found himself miraculously sober when a visitor showed up one day.

A chuckle. He didn't even need to open the eyes to see who the unexpected (and unwelcomed at that) company was.

"You still stink like hell." He stated. Eyes still closed.

A low growl.

"I would think the cancer has eaten up the cells responsible for the shitish excuse for something you call humor."

That got him alert. He looked straight at his former teammate only to watch her reaction from the corner of the eye. She was alert as well, carefully listening to what the beast in front of them was saying.

"What? No more wisecracks? Cat got your tongue?"

Wade shifted, eyes sharp on his opponent now. Unfortunately Sabertooth's natural senses caught on that.

"…or a little cute mouse over here did?"

The monster in human body moved casually to her cell, his claws making tiny scratches on the bars. It took serious control for Wade not to jump up there that second. Instead he said:

"I see no one gives you the manicure these days."

"Your mouth will get you killed, merc." The other mutant turned back to him.

"I think my cancer will beat it to it."

Sabertooth produced another growl on his way to the door, this one seem to come from the very depth of his chest.

"I'll be back to play with the mouth later." He announced and the door closed.

A sharp intake of breath on his left brought Wade straight back to reality. Their silent relationships (or whatever they had for the moment in time) were bound to end there. What was she about to say? Ask him who he was? How he knew the farel mutant? Or his personal favorite he close enough to dreaded: _you have cancer_?

She surprised him when he closed the space between them and was standing in front of her, the bars the only thing separating them. Surprised him _**again**_.

"My name's Emma." She extended her hand.

A second of hesitation was needed for the recovery of the shock. After that he took her hand:

"Wade."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was a very strange thing they shared…twisted at some points, comforting in general. It was much needed and totally new for both of them. They didn't talk a lot, didn't reveal much but when they did every word was worth it. The silence between them was never heavy or pressing, in fact it was more like a blanket that helped you fall asleep at night, that wrapped you and made your pulse go steady.

Emma wondered how exactly something like that could happened…They were two opposites, completely different. He, a witty charming cancer-sick handsome ex-terrorist. She, confused to the core quiet slightly bettered tiny diamond with an A-student syndrome. She actually praised herself for such an honest bluff-free description of both of them.

Yes, they didn't talk much but when they did, it was the most exceptional moments. For some reason she felt special. He told her about all the exotic places he's been to, the amazing sights he's seen. She guessed that it was probably due to his job and he wasn't just backpacking around the world. But these stories brought her a feeling of content…or maybe it was the sound of his voice that did. She couldn't tell.

Sometimes she would look at the occupants of the other cells. All that was heard from them were growls, murmurs and muttering (almost always to themselves). That's when she appreciated their companionship the most.

They didn't talk about his sickness. She didn't even know what kind of cancer he had. It wasn't exactly a taboo but she didn't want to press the subject either. Although she could tell he was hurting. Some days were better, some worse. But he seemed to be used to pain for not a sound escaped his lips through the duration of the "bed" days. Those days he just pretended to sleep but she could tell by the way he reacted to her shifting nearby that he wasn't actually asleep.

One night when she was half-asleep on her side, facing his cell, she heard coughing and immediately opened her eyes to see him shaking a bit.

"It does hurt." Was all he said. Then added. "Like hell/"

Her eyes slowly drifted to his and her hand reached through the bars for his. She presumed he knew a thing or two about hell.

"Hey, don't worry , sweets, I still have to take you to the Maldives like I promised as soon as we get out of here, right?" He gave her a half-smile and a wink.

She blinked once as if to say 'yes' and went back to sleep, thinking that she would probably strongly hate islands after their imprisonment anyway.

He glanced once more at their hands and let himself a true smile as he drifted to sleep as well. A smile he didn't know he was still able to produce.

Wade was being welcomed into the land of dreams when he felt her fingers intertwining with his. A weak smile returned.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Devastated. That was not even close to what she felt.

She panicked.

She paced the cell.

She screamed.

She tried to tear the bars from its' place.

She cried. Yes, in the end she cried.

Then, there were no tears left, her voice was cringing, throat sore, body tired of shaking uncontrollably…

She knew something like that was being prepared, what she couldn't eve fathom was that they would somehow be a part of it…that _he_ would be _made_ a part of it…

The weight was put on her shoulders, heavy, pulling her to the ground so that she could not stand any more.

She felt sick. They had a connection. _How clashed…_ but they did. The one they formed themselves; not by some miraculous force or a wave of the wand. They talked, they confessed things, they comforted each other, and sometimes this connection seemed the only thing in the world worth fighting for.

When she woke up and he wasn't there, waiting for her to come to like he always did, her first thought was…_awful_…that maybe it was the night when his cancer took it's tall…but soon after she realized it was Them, Stryker and his men, people he used to me one of. She just knew it.

_Huh…he wouldn't have died without saying good-bye._

"_**Are you gonna tell me?" He looked up questionably.**_

"_**Tell you what, sweets?"**_

"_**I'm serious, Wade." She scooped closer to the bars and took a lotus-like position with her elbows resting on her knees.**_

"_**Ok." The grin left his face, eye to eye, he was not about to joke.**_

"_**Are you gonna tell me when it's the end?"**_

_**And there was a traitorous stinging in the back of her eyes.**_

_**He nodded after a while, not daring to look at her glossy eyes:**_

"_**I'm not English."**_

_**She questioned his sanity.**_

"_**Only they leave without saying good-bye."**_

Now she was in the middle of the cell, clinging to the cold stone floor for her life because she was lost…because his voice was the only thing she knew, the only thing she wanted to know, the only thing she needed to make things right.

"_**I…" He fell quiet.**_

_**She raised her eyebrows in response.**_

"_**You…" He started again. "You are important to me."**_

_**Emma knew what he meant She felt the same. Had been feeling for some time.**_

_**And that was a gesture on his part. Men are never good with words – something her sister used to tell her once in a while. Even men like him that sometimes could not keep their mouths shut with wisecracks fountain from them. But with words transporting their feelings they were just like any other.**_

"_**I know." She spared him any further speeches. **_

_**He bent his head, she squeezed his hand, giving some kind of reassurances, a proof to her words.**_

"Well, well, well…look at you, doll, a pretty thing like you shouldn't be like that…" A smirk evident in Sabertooth's voice.

"Where is he?" Her own voice cold, distant, full of unhidden rage.

He got closer, hands behind his back:

"I wouldn't wait for the Romeo if I were you."

Both hands on the bars, her words were a harsh whisper:

"What did you do to him?"

"I? Moi?" He smirked, coming to stand in front of her. "My job was actually very simple – to bring him over to the lab in case he still had it in him to try anything. The rest I leave to white coats."

As his devilish smirk grew wider, her hands clashed harder to the metal.

"When I'm out of here…" Her voice was steady, eyes blur. "I'm gonna make sure you pay."

"You're a total killjoy, you know that?"

And though he burked a laugh, somewhere deep in his head an unknown feeling crossed the vibes… Sabertooth has been through bullets, hunger, imprisonment, even death…but no the wrath of a woman.


	7. AN plz, read

Hello, my dear readers!

I'm so very sorry I haven't talked to you before but lets just blame it all on woman-has-to-be-a-mystery thing, deal?

Well, now that we're done with that, one more apology for not updating – I had my exams and what can I say – law wouldn't study itself… I hope that's a good enough reason. If not, then you'll just have to stick with the fact.

As for the story, I can tell you that it won't be very long till the end, although there will be some major twist a little later. Don't guess, I really have no idea how it invaded my mind! Thank you all for so wonderful reviews, I read them all and consider all the criticism as long as it's constructive – thank you very much for that as well.

One more thing that I haven't mentioned – of course, I don't own any of the characters, they belong to fabulous Marvel. It's just like when someone's got all the best toys you can't help but play with them if you get a chance.

No more words for AN, enjoy the next "In the Cell" chapter…


	8. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Asleep or Awake.

Dead or Alive.

…he was numb.

He tried to stir, to raise a hand, to move a finger…come to think of it, he couldn't even hear himself breath.

But Wade reasoned that on the other hand he didn't feel anymore pain either. Although it is commonly known that the ability to feel pain is the indication of being alive. Suddenly, it seemed that on the "life-death" scale, the death part was written in bold letters.

He couldn't tell if he finally opened his eyes or that was just a mechanical motion but through the blurry incoherent sight he could identify someone moving.

"You're almost done." That someone close to purred. _Disgusting. _Wade did recognize the voice, he's heard it too much for the past couple years or so. _A grown man, a colonel talks like that! Jeez, what is he trying to adapt a Thai prostitute speaking skills? _"You're going to be a perfect soldier now, Wade, a **perfect** soldier." 

_Not good._

Wade's mind flashed somewhere else, he couldn't hear his former boss anymore. What good the guessing game will bring him? What has been done to him? What's about to happened? Will anybody stop the madman? He would definitely chuckle at the last question if he could for it was odd to think of anybody else but himself in that terms. Though, he had to admit that the cancer has changed him a great deal…

He still was the man he used to be, still believed and loved what he did for living, still didn't regret having learned to be a martial artist, hand-to-hand combat, still fancied his own scence of humor…but a month ago he if asked he would say that he'd prefer to depart alone (…_as if __**I**__'d die…Gods with such perfect bodies never die_). Now…he wanted nothing more then to feel her hand holding his for the last time…

Last time. Wade didn't have any illusions about his future. He knew he was as good as dead. _Vegetable_. At least his body was. It was one of two things that were given, a paining truth,

The other was that after so many years of being an absolute loner, a 'lone wolf', a man-whore (the nickname his former teammates invented), no strings attached, the head of the club of one-night-stands male species Wade Wilson was in a very deep when it came to one petite blonde that he was sure was worrying her butt off in her cell.

_Great timing, Wade…as always, _

He really wished he could sigh.


	9. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Take him!" Emma literally collided Scott that was attached to her arm with some other male mutant when they reached the helicopter.

"Where are you going?" The blind-folded young man asked, feeling now rough hands hold him.

"I have to find someone…" Although her words were still in his hearing distance, they were eaten with the sounds from the big machine.

As she reached the path they used to get to the surface, a lean figure formed itself in front of her:

"Remy?!"

"Emma!" The Cajun looked taken aback and relieved at the same time. "Thank god you're alright!"

She felt a pair of strong arms envelope her in a practiced hug. Practiced but nonetheless sincere. Yes…Remy was a heartbreaker and a charmer but he was also her friend…

"_**You know, belle, nothing good will come out of you starring at the door in the position you're in." Remy's sweet voice slightly grazed with huskiness purred. "It won't magically open with the power of your gaze like it make men fall to their knees in all the other situations I bet. And plus you'll get yourself a hell of a muscle ache and something tells me there's no good spa around here to get a nice massage."**_

_**The corners of her lips went slightly up despite herself. She really was not comfortable with the way she was sited. She looked up for a second to be met with the instance stare of sapphire eyes before she shifted her body to point it in the other direction, balancing her legs not to fall as she did so. **_

"_**Good, mon ami." He praised in the same velvet voice. "Now, I'm Remy, it's a pleasure to make your aquinntence."**_

"_**I'm Emma." She took a deep breath. "Nice to meet you too, Remy."**_

Memories from the first night in the cage came rushing back to her. It's been a year. It felt a day.

"I need your help, Remy." She breathed out still in his embrace.

He agreed to come back with her to get her sister, she didn't dare telling him that the real reason she was risking her newly found freedom and their lives for that matter was a former mercenary and Remy's personal arch-enemy. She realized it was selfish but what choice did she have?

She was pulled out of her thoughts when bumping into Remy's back as he stopped abruptly when they could see the stone tower-shaped building. His gaze was sharp and deep as he focused on the top of it. Emma raised her eyebrows in confusion at first but then gasped, realizing what her friend reacted to:

"What the hell is that? _Who_ is it?"

She looked closer and she could swear for a second her heart stopped beating. His head was shaved completely, his body was toned once again, he was moving the way that he used to but the signature mark – the twin katanas – were not strapped to his back neither were they making perfect circles in his hands…to her horror they were his hands.

The young woman grabbed the arm of the man in front of her for support for she was sure she'd fall. He consciously caught her by the waist.

But Emma kept her eyes firmly on the fight in front of them, three figures moving at an exceptional speed…no mercy intended. It was his frame, his ways of fighting, his skills…but it was not him, she could tell…it was not him.

"Wade!" The scream erupted from her mouth, releasing the air from her lungs and she could not breath…

She saw him _try_ to turn to the source of the sound but it was as if some indestructible force was holding him, making sure all of his movements were strict in order. She slide down to earth still in Remy's arms still breathless.

"Breath." Remy ordered, his voice deadly serious. She's already forgotten that she needed air.

"Breath!" He repeated and she inhaled. Emma could tell he was angry but was thankful he didn't try and say anything.

Cajun grabbed her on of her hands firmly and made sure she was listening and more importantly processing what he was saying:

"Stay here. I'll go there and see what I can do. But I need you to stay her." Her lips parted a little but after a second she merely nodded.

He was gone the next second. She was left on the cold dusty earth-floor, starring at the man she loved destroying every single ray of hope she had for the future, shattering her heart and taking it with him to hell.

Then the tower started falling in front of her eyes but not before she could she could see Him being beheaded. Her consciousness left her that second. She secretly hoped her life would too. __


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue

She's never had the time to feel his lips on hers but in her dreams no taste was so divine. Their kisses were passionate, gentle, wild, sweet, equally forceful and tender as if the dream-Emma and Wade knew that they should take it all for the chance would be taken out of their hands.

His touch would burn her skin and sometimes when it also sent shivers the part of her flawless skin would cover itself in thousands of sparkling diamonds, making him chuckle and her blush because of the affect he obviously had on her.

He would caress her neck all the while leaving butterfly kisses along her collarbone. Then one of his large trained hands would move to cup her face and next moment she'd hear his whispers in her ear. Those barely audible words making the corners of her mouth turn slightly. She would brush her lips to the burning sweating skin of his cheek near the place where it met his ear and answer that she felt the same.

In his arms she would feel herself flying to the moon and back in a matter of seconds and at the same time the most down-to-earth alive she'd ever felt.

He would look at her with the same eyes, the same expression in them like he knew so much more but would guard her sweet ignorance, like he wished to tell her a million other things but preferred to jusr watch her and whisper calming nothings. He would shadow the weight of the world in his gaze so she would be left with illusion of safety.

And when her unconseous form would start feeling the morning breeze and the rizing sun caressing her ceramic-colored skin (although it would be shamed if compared to his touch), she'd beg him not to go, not to leave her. And he would smile, kiss her temple ever so lightly and wrap his arms around her slender waist, holding her closer to his chest, a single teal sliding down her cheek, wetting the pillow underneath.

In a matter of moments her eyes would snap open, breathing a bit havier then normal,

Emma would force herself to stand up and slide from the bed, making her way to the lighted kitchen. She'd sigh and would look as the rays of light brighted the streets below her, a few people at such hour, making their way somewhere.

All the while she'd be reaching into the fridge for juice, taking the eggs out, slicing bred for French toasts.

"You up early again." It's more a comment then a question.

She'd smile but not answer, handing him a glass of squeezed oranges.

"Thanks." He'd say one hand accepting the drink, the other reaching out for her and pressing to himself, his arms encircling her. She would squirm and wrap her her arms around his naked torso, or scratch his back with her nails just for the fun of an early morning, making the muscles on his back tense, or play with the bottom of his pajama pants. He'd tower over her delicate frame and kiss the top of her hair.

"Did you sleep well?"

She'd smile, snuggling closer to him, images of the dream flash in her mind:

"Never better, Remy, never better."

THE END


End file.
